


R&R

by days4daisy



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Chocolate Box Treat, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Marcus isn't surprised that Portia has the combo lock to his quarters.Portia isn't surprised to find Marcus' pants around his knees.





	R&R

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alamorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/gifts).



> Happy Chocolate Box, alamorn! Hope you enjoy :)

Marcus isn't surprised that Portia has the combo lock to his quarters. He’s just a passenger on her ship, after all. They're partners in crime, but that doesn't mean she trusts him.

Portia isn't surprised to find Marcus' pants around his knees and his lubed dick in-hand. He raises his head casually to greet her. "Hey, boss," he says.

“Is this how you rest up for a job?” Her lips slant up, painted red as the blood they’ll spill tomorrow.

Marcus returns her grin, boyishly wide. “This is resting.” Marcus is fun. Not too needy, not a loose cannon. Portia doesn’t have to have him around, but she likes him, and she likes his cock.

She rolls her leather coat off her shoulders and bends to unlace her boots. Her hip tips out, a clear suggestion, and Marcus chuckles from the bed. “Heard you were a busy boy on Lodis-Prime," Portia says. "Surprised you can even get it up.” She glances at him through a curtain of hair.

“Yeah well.” Marcus gives himself a lazy squeeze. His cock is red and thick, glossed between his fingers. Not a bad view. “Had to pass the time somehow. You checking up on me? That's sweet." He puckers teasingly. "Didn't take you for the jealous type." 

“Please.” Portia rolls her leggings down. She has Marcus' full attention, all hunger and heat. Portia could make him wait - but where's the fun in that?

His body fits nicely between her thighs. She leans over him, hair teasing his face. Marcus smirks, and his mouth opens a touch. His eyelids sit low, gaze burning beneath. He's dying to kiss her. Maybe he would, if Portia were one of his random R&R hookups. He'd grab her, toss her down, and fuck her until the bedsprings squeal.

With Portia, Marcus knows better. He waits.

Marcus snorts when she leaves him hanging. “You’re something else, know that?” he grumbles.

Portia knows. She sits back enough to feel his knuckles as he rubs himself. Lubricant streaks her ass. Marcus' eyes shift, distracted.

Portia waits until she has his full attention to open her legs wide. She hooks a thumb into the crotch of her thong and peels it to the side. Obediently, Marcus' stare sinks right to where she wants it.

One thing Portia will give him - she doesn’t do this for just anyone. Sex is a weapon like any gun or knife. The lure of it makes her powerful, the reward is only for the ones she likes. Portia isn't stupid. She knows Marcus will sell her out one day, or maybe she’ll return the favor. But for now, he's useful, and Portia likes usefulness.

Marcus licks his already bite-pink lips. Chewing them before she got here, obviously. Hiding every pretty little sound.

Portia eases her thumb between the thick lips of her sex. The cool of the room touches her as she opens herself. Her thumb flicks slowly against her clit. Answering heat pools low inside her. She was designed so well, to feel so much.

“Boss, c’mon.” Marcus’ eyes look a little wild, and he's pumping himself faster than before. She sinks back further, and his hand stutters around himself. He catches a lip between his teeth and worries it even redder.

"Don't be greedy," Portia teases. "I have catching up to do." She rolls her clit under her thumb, and new heat squirms down her spine. For a moment, Portia is tempted to finger herself off and force Marcus to watch. She likes his body, but she also likes what she can make herself feel, and Marcus' irritation would be an added bonus.

“I’ll catch you up, huh?” Marcus offers, smiling like she can't resist him. Portia can, though, and she's tempted to prove him wrong. He’s isn't as good as he thinks he is, on this ship or under the sheets.

But Portia likes a man who’s eager to please, and she rewards him by shifting up to his chest. Her knees frame his shoulders, and she tangles a hand in his hair. “You up for it?” she asks. “Been giving yourself quite the ride.”

“Missed you too, boss,” Marcus says, head raised. His lips graze between her legs, and his tongue darts out. He hasn't shaved in awhile. His cheeks are rough between her thighs, and his moustache tickles, sharp pleasure. Portia rocks down on him, feeling his hum more than she hears it. She rakes nails down his scalp in approval. He likes this too, she feels his open-mouthed smile as his tongue strokes her clit.

His breaths burst nicely between her legs. He groans under his breath, and it makes her body flutter in appreciation. He's enjoying this, he could get off on it if she let him.

Marcus could get off doing a lot of things that other men don’t get. Portia usually prefers the female side of the spectrum. Marcus is an exception. He probably knows how lucky he is, but just in case…

Marcus’ hiss when Portia pulls his hair is pornographic. “Did I say you could stop touching yourself?” asks asks.

Marcus half-heartedly rolls his eyes. “No,” he says. “No, you did not.”

He starts to move in again, but Portia taps his lips. “No,” she says. “You catch up first.”

“Seriously?” Marcus quirks a brow, and she raises one right back. Good as his mouth is, she's serious.

Portia proves her point with two fingers between her legs. Her cunt is soft from his mouth, and she presses them into herself easily. She spreads her knees wider to angle them in, a pleased warmth spreading up her chest. His tongue was warm and wet, but Portia knows how to touch herself. She scissors, sighing at the familiarity, pliantly soft.

“Ah fuck, you are serious,” Marcus grumbles. He shifts, and Portia enjoys the renewed sound of oiled skin rubbing skin. Marcus’ eyes comb Portia’s body. Her breasts bob under the low neck of her tank top, her sex stretched around her manicured fingers. “This sucks,” he grouses, but his eyes are too hot for her to take him seriously.

Portia decides not to argue with him. It’s more fun to fill herself to the third knuckle and enjoy the sleek spread of her own fingers. "Harder," she says. Marcus' breaths stumble as he stares at her. “ _Harder_ ,” Portia repeats. She twists her fingers, thumb plucked over her clit. It feels plump under her touch, a delicate nub. Pleasure spills through her spread thighs. She's so open, so ready. Marcus' breaths make her legs quiver and her hand falter between her legs.

Marcus makes a small, aggravated sound. His forehead knots, mouth bite-swollen. “Portia, _come on,_ ” he says. She's tempted, she really is. Marcus is good, and she knows he's worth it. But this is too fun to give up.

“Is your hand not good enough anymore?” Portia prods. She gives him a knowing look, and he curses under his breath. His smirk doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and his mouth falters open. “Should have thought about that before - _harder_ , Marcus.”

“Christ, you’re the worst.” Marcus babbles the words, strained and slippery. His shudder rolls between her legs. He’s the best kind of thick, strong and pretty. Marcus’ brow is sweaty.

Portia decides she wants to watch.

She rocks towards her own wrist, heat pulsing around her hand. Marcus’ body responds immediately, his chest jumps and his head tips back. His eyes stay on her, boiling hot. He latches his mouth to her thigh, nibbles and sucks, turning her skin red. She hasn't given him permission for this, but the act feels so desperate, she lets it go. It feels good anyway, hot and aching.

Still, Portia can't allow too much. She gives him a minute before she pushes his face away. “No,” she says. His teeth grit in frustration, but his grunt is more question than demand. Portia's thumb dips into the center of his throat. His stare burns so blue she wonders if he can even see.

“Look at me,” she says. He does, but he _isn’t_ , eyes so blown out, wide and far away. Her thumb hooks into his chin. “Look at me,” she says again.

For a second, Marcus’ attention snaps back to her. Then, it’s gone, he’s gone, a shuddering “shit… _oh shit._ ” His head shakes, endearingly angry, brow creased through his orgasm. His body stutters beneath Portia, she feels wetness on her back. His mouth trips on his own silence, and his body bridges back down to the bed.

Portia combs his hair from his forehead, but frowns when he nuzzles her wrist tenderly. This isn’t what he’s here for. She pulls her hand away. “Forgetting something?” she asks.

He blinks at her, then slurs, “Fuck. Yeah.” He drapes hands on her thighs and urges her forward.

Even spent, his mouth is eager. She moves with him, easing towards his lips, hissing at the pleasant scratch of his scruff. She’s already so warm and open, he fills her easily with his tongue. He kisses to taste her deep, and Portia's body shivers around him.

There wasn’t a single person on Lodis-Prime that made him like this. Not that it matters. Boone is only here for the units. This is a bonus, and Portia likes it this way.

Marcus has a mouth made for sex. His tongue is precise, tasting until she’s trembling heat all over. The pool of warmth in her stomach spills over the edge, and her head drifts back in welcome.

He reacts louder than she does at her orgasm. His fingers dig into her back, and good feelings swim down her spine. Her cry is satisfaction, and he drinks it up, sitting back only when she’s still. His eyes are shine, satisfied mischief, and he scrubs a pleased hand against his mouth.

Portia relaxes on top of him, and his arm drapes heavily over her back. “What do you say?” she prompts, looking up from his chest.

Marcus scoffs, but still answers, “Thanks, boss.” The hand flat on her back is wet - oil, cum, or both? “Good n’ rested.”

“Better be,” Portia says, fingers drumming his collarbone. “I’d hate to make you go again.”

Marcus hums amusement. “Yeah, that would suck.” He draws fingers down the line of her thong.

Every once in awhile, Portia can be generous. She enjoys his startled breath when her teeth catch his lip. His head jerks forward, and she meets him roughly. Her hand tangles in his hair as she sucks on his swollen lip, worrying and licking until she wins a quiet sound from him. High and vulnerable, decidedly un-Marcus like.

“Good and rested?” Portia asks.

Marcus hisses, maybe it's supposed to be a laugh. “Jesus,” he mutters.

Portia takes this as a ‘no.’

*The End*


End file.
